


Polishing his boots

by Nary



Category: Merlin (BBC)
Genre: Banter, Boot polishing, Domestic Servitude, M/M, Master/Servant, Mouthy Bottom, Oral Sex, Service Submission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-16
Updated: 2011-02-16
Packaged: 2017-10-15 17:06:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/162983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nary/pseuds/Nary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"What did you polish these with, Merlin, a snotrag?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Polishing his boots

"What did you polish these with, Merlin, a snotrag?" Arthur asked as he pulled on his boots.

"No, I used your shirt," he replied snidely as he tidied up the dishes from Arthur's breakfast.

"Well then, you should have cleaned that better too. Stop clattering around and get over here," Arthur instructed him. Merlin put down the tray and made his way over to where Arthur leaned against the edge of his bed. "Look closely, Merlin."

"At?"

Arthur waggled his foot in response. Stifling a sigh, Merlin crouched, looking at the boot in question. It seemed all right to him - maybe a little smudged, but for heaven's sake, it was a boot, it was going to spend the day walking around in muck and filth, a little smudge shouldn't matter, should it?

It wouldn't do any good pointing that out to Arthur, though. "Clean it," his master told him sternly. Merlin looked around for a rag, but Arthur shook his head, impatient. "Use your shirt, since that's your tool of choice."

"I was only joking," Merlin muttered under his breath, but he tried using the edge of his tunic to wipe the boot. It was awkward - he knelt down on the floor, trying to get closer, fumbling and scrubbing with the hem, until Arthur sighed with irritation.

"Just take it off," he told him. "It'll be easier."

Merlin gave him a look to see if he was serious. Apparently he meant it. So Merlin shrugged off his shirt, feeling grateful that at least it was warm in Arthur's chamber - well it ought to be, he'd built the fire himself - and bent lower over Arthur's extended foot, polishing the questionable smear briskly. Finally he knelt back on his heels and risked another glance up at Arthur. He had a very peculiar look on his face, as if he was thinking hard, something Arthur avoided doing most of the time. "Is that all, my lord?" Merlin asked.

"It'll do," Arthur said grudgingly. "Next time I find them smudged, though, I ought to make you lick them clean."

"I don't think that would help..." Merlin began before trailing off, noticing the suspicious bulge in Arthur's breeches, just at his eye level. And Arthur had noticed him noticing, which was, if anything, even more awkward. Merlin waited for an instruction from his master, even if it was "get out," because he couldn't seem to say anything, or even move a muscle.

"I want you to suck it," Arthur said suddenly, his voice as firm as when he gave any other order. Merlin's heart leapt in his chest, and he nodded, still unable to speak. He fumbled a little in lowering Arthur's trousers, but his master, for once, didn't complain.


End file.
